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‘Good Morning Hawkins! It’s your favorite radio host Rockin Robin here on this fine Tuesday afternoon. The current date is May 6th and I would be remiss if I didn't wish one of my closest friends in the world a ‘Happy Birthday’ and a very ‘Happy 21st Birthday at that.” Wherever you are listening to this broadcast from Nance, have a happy stinking birthday. With that done and out of the way, it’s time to get it on Hawkins! This next song is called ‘House Tour’ by Sabrina Carpenter. Once again this is Rockin Robin here on WSQK Hawkins.
The bright jingle of the station faded, and smooth synth-pop filled the speakers of Nancy Wheeler’s beat-up Honda Civic.
She blinked at the radio, coffee halfway to her lips.
“Robin,” she muttered, “you dork.”
Nancy has been waiting for her twenty-first birthday ever since she heard the story of her two parents falling in love. Both Karen and Ted remember the story differently but the message stays the same, once they turned twenty one, they started to hear songs in their heads, from their soulmates. It took her parents three months before they even found each other, by chance at a party Ted’s college roommate was throwing in 1995, and since then her parents have been inseparable since. Nancy has been wanting that for herself for as long as she could remember, hoping to have a great love story like her parents.
Nancy heard a quick ping from her car speaker as it pulled her out of her own memory, and alerted her to a text from the radio host herself. The message played through her car:
Robin: Hope you enjoyed the first gift from me on your 21st. More to come later, see you at Steve’s for your big bash.
Nancy rolled her eyes. The message faded, replaced by the shimmering intro of House Tour again. Nancy shook her head with a helpless smile.
“Great. She’s starting early,” she said out loud to herself in the solace of her car. Knowing Robin for the better part of five years, Robin Buckley loved two things on earth more than anything: dramatic entrances and humiliating her friends with affection.
Nancy wasn’t surprised that Robin was turning her 21st birthday into a county-wide event on live radio.
She reached for her coffee again, letting the cool plastic sweat against her palm as she paused in the parking lot outside the Hawkins Public Library. She’d stopped in for a moment of quiet before heading home to get ready for the party. Just the first stop of many she was planning on making on her first day of being twenty-one.
She sent a quick text message off to Robin saying,
Nancy: Thank you so much. Can’t wait to see you later. Please bring the good drinks and not the shitty ones Steve insists on forcing us to drink. I know I’m gonna get hammered with everyone giving me drinks tonight, but I can at least make sure I’m gonna get drunk on the ones that I like.
Robin very quickly sent a thumbs up emoji back and Nancy continued on her errands before she made it back to her house to get in a quick nap before she started to get ready for the party at Steve’s.
Nancy’s nap didn’t last as long as she hoped. She forgot to turn on "Do Not Disturb" and woke up to the group chat she shared with Robin, Steve, and Jonathan blowing up with messages.
Robin: Rise and Shine birthday girl. Hawkins needs their princess to be celebrated like royalty today. Steve is stressing out so bad it’s not even funny guys. Jonathan, make sure you pick up Nance before you stop by. Gotta make sure she makes the most out of today.
Steve: NOT PANICKING. Just making sure the ice machine works and the piñata is hung at the right height. NORMAL PARTY THINGS.
Jonathan: Dude, how many people did you invite? The entire state of Indiana? Also, why the fuck did you get a piñata. Please tell me you’re gonna put mini bottles inside and not candy? Got it Robin, will let you know we’re on the way. I wouldn’t want the birthday girl to wait.
Nancy sent a quick response to the group chat and started to get ready. After a long shower to both wake her up and imagine what the first song she would hear in her head, she stood in front of her closet, towel wrapped around her hair, scanning her options with growing impatience. Her phone lit up beside her on the bed as messages continued stacking in the group chat.
Robin: Don’t let her leave the house in anything business casual, Byers. Birthday girl only. No “journalist on assignment” vibes tonight.
Steve: Seriously, Nance, wear something you don’t mind getting tequila spilled on.
Nancy groaned and typed her response to them.
Nancy: You guys are actually impossible, it's actually insane. Maybe clinical. Also, what’s wrong with my usual outfits? I know you all have been waiting to celebrate my birthday. It’s not my fault I have the last birthday out of the four of us.
She threw on some music to keep her nerves from exploding, “Paradise” by Bazzi to be specific. First-day-of-being-21 jitters, the good kind and dug through her closet until she found the outfit she’d been imagining all week:
A soft, lilac tank top that made her eyes pop.
Loose-fit black jeans.
A cropped leather jacket Robin swore made her look like a “girlboss who could win a bar fight.”
She gave herself one last look in the mirror. Her hair in loose curls. Just the right amount of makeup that said it’s my party and I’m the star here. She threw on her high top Converse, shoes she wouldn’t mind getting dirty as she knew what a Steve Harrington party entailed.
Not perfect. But confident. And that was enough tonight.
Her heart fluttered—not from the soulmate thing, not yet, but from something else. Anticipation. The electric thrill of walking into a party where everyone loves you, where nothing bad can happen, where the night belongs to you. “Paradise” ended and the music stopped as a whole, symbolizing the end of her playlist.
Her phone buzzed on the dresser.
Jonathan: Leaving in 10. Be ready. Can’t wait to give you your gift. See you soon baboon.
Nancy set her phone back down, her smile lingering at his ending message. They started ending messages after a marathon of Bob’s Burgers and it just stuck. Jonathan. Always reliable, always quiet in his way, always somehow seeing her when no one else did.
Nancy started to hear a soft melody playing in her head. The melody felt familiar to her, like she’s heard it a thousand times but she couldn’t remember the name of the song. She hummed along to maybe three lines before the music in her head turned off.
She thought about their shared history and trauma. Years of knowing each other through chaos, through Hawkins’ weirdness, through all the small, invisible ways they’d kept each other steady.
He had a way of grounding her, without trying. The late-night texts when she couldn’t sleep, the way he remembered the tiniest details about her life, the way he showed up when she didn’t even ask for help.
It wasn’t romantic, at least, not in the conventional way, but it was something she had come to depend on. A constant thread in a life that often felt like it was unraveling.
Nancy touched her phone again, a small, private warmth settling in her chest. No matter what happened tonight—soulmate songs or chaotic parties or Robin’s ridiculous theatrics—Jonathan would be there. Always. And somehow, that knowledge made her feel braver.
She grabbed her purse, took a deep breath, and let the thrill of the night wash over her.
“Yeah,” she whispered again, more to herself this time. “I’m ready.”
Karen Wheeler lit up the moment Nancy descended from the stairway and stepped into the living room.
“Oh, honey, you look beautiful!” Her hands smoothed over Nancy’s jacket again, though it didn’t need adjusting, as if the simple act of touching her made Karen feel part of the celebration.
Ted Wheeler, planted in his recliner with a half-eaten bag of chips balanced precariously on his knee, gave a single approving nod without looking away from the game flickering on the TV. “Nice jacket,” he muttered, his tone gruff but fond. Then he went back to yelling at the screen like it was the only thing that could compete with Nancy’s presence in the room.
Mike, glued to his Switch in the corner, didn’t even glance up. His thumbs moved with practiced precision, oblivious to the familial fanfare around him. Holly ran up to her big sister and gave her a giant hug before running back to watching Mike play his video game.
Karen leaned closer, adjusting Nancy’s collar once more, her fingers lingering on the leather as if she could pass some of her excitement into her daughter. “Robin has already called me twice,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “She said tonight is ‘historic.’ Whatever that means.”
Nancy laughed, swatting her mother’s hands away gently. “It means she’s dramatic. You heard her this morning on the radio wishing me happy birthday right?”
Karen nodded slightly and paused, her playful expression softening into something warm and nostalgic. She rested a hand lightly on Nancy’s arm, eyes searching hers with a mixture of curiosity and motherly hope.
“Do you feel anything yet?”
Nancy froze, the question hanging in the air like a balloon she hadn’t been ready to pop. It was the question everyone had been avoiding but had been thinking relentlessly. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
“Not… yet. I thought I heard something earlier but it was too quiet to tell,” she admitted, her voice small.
Karen squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Baby, it doesn’t always happen right at midnight. Your father didn’t hear my song until three months after his birthday.” Her smile was gentle, nostalgic, as if she could feel that moment again.
Ted grunted from his chair, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Worth every minute of hearing “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey that night,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the TV.
Karen rolled her eyes, but the warmth never left her face. “Your soulmate is out there, sweetie. You’ll hear them. I promise you that much.”
Nancy nodded, a tiny nervous flip in her chest, feeling the mixture of excitement and anxiety that came with a milestone like this. She took a deep breath, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Before she could respond, the headlights of a car flashed through the front window, bouncing across the walls of the living room. Jonathan’s car.
Nancy’s stomach fluttered, not from the soulmate thing, not yet at least, but from the familiar, quiet comfort of him being there. She heard the car door click, the faint jingle of keys, and then the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps on the driveway gravel.
A knock at the door.
Karen’s hands lingered a moment longer on Nancy’s shoulders. “Go. Have fun. And tell Robin she owes me a bottle of wine for waking me up this morning. Oh, and a birthday shout out too!”
Nancy’s grin widened, a warm buzz of excitement spreading through her chest. “I’ll tell her,” she said, grabbing her purse and smoothing her jacket.
She opened the door and there he was—Jonathan, standing casually on the porch, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket, the other holding a bouquet of flowers, lilies to be exact. His dark hair fell into his eyes slightly, and he gave her that half-smile he reserved just for her, the one that always made her feel seen without words.
“Happy birthday,” he said softly, his voice steady, calm, grounding. “These are for you, Nance,” extending his arm out to give her the flowers and a small kiss on the cheek.
“You’ll get your actual present from me later but I wanted to give you something small now,” Jonathan told her.
Nancy carefully took the bouquet from Jonathan, inhaling the soft, sweet scent of the lilies. They were delicate, thoughtful—exactly the kind of gift that felt intimate without needing words. She held them close for a moment, savoring the quiet warmth of it.
“Thanks, Jonathan,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “They’re perfect.”
He shrugged modestly, cheeks just slightly pink. “Just… wanted you to have something nice before the chaos hits.”
Nancy stepped inside, carefully balancing the bouquet in her arms, while searching for a vase in the kitchen. Karen was on the couch, her eyes flicking up as Nancy entered. The moment she saw the flowers, and the way Jonathan lingered just outside the doorway her lips curved upwards into a subtle, knowing smile. She gave a quick glance toward Jonathan that said more than words could: approval, understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection they’d always shared.
Nancy felt her cheeks heat, catching her mother’s look and meeting Jonathan’s eyes briefly. He gave the tiniest smile, as if he’d felt it too, the unspoken history between them folding gently into the moment.
“Thanks,” Nancy said as she joined Jonathan back outside, heart skipping a beat. “You ready for what’s in store at Steve’s house tonight?” She gestured vaguely toward the chaos she could hear already building outside.
He smirked. “I think I can survive a Robin Buckley birthday spectacular.” He glanced at her jacket and gave a small, appreciative nod. “And you look… really good.”
Nancy felt a rush of warmth she tried not to overthink, brushing it off with a laugh. But inside, she was quietly glad he was here—her anchor before the storm, as always.
The night air hit Nancy’s face as she and Jonathan climbed into his car. The faint hum of Hawkins settling into evening was punctuated by the occasional distant honk and the faint echo of Robin’s voice from the radio still lingering in her ears.
Jonathan started the engine, and the low growl of his Buick’s old motor filled the quiet space between them. Nancy let herself sink into the familiar comfort of Jonathan’s presence.
“So…” she began, half-laughing, half-nervous, “how many people did Robin actually invite? I have a feeling it’s going to be… massive.”
Jonathan smirked. “Let’s just say I hope you like chaos. And tequila.”
Nancy laughed, shaking her head. “Classic Robin. She’s probably broadcasting our entrance live at this point.”
Jonathan glanced at her, eyes softening. “Well… at least she’s celebrating you. That’s worth whatever chaos comes with it.”
Nancy’s fingers brushed against his hand as she started to play with the radio in his car. Almost instinctively, Jonathan’s thumb brushed over hers. That quiet, familiar connection—the unspoken way they understood each other—made her chest tighten with a warmth she couldn’t quite name.
Nancy groaned, “God, there is nothing good on this fucking radio. Why does Robin only work in the mornings and not at night. I want to make sure my soulmate is listening to something good if they can hear it.”
Jonathan just shrugged in response and wordlessly handed her his phone. “It’s already connected. Play what you wanna hear, let’s hope whoever is listening enjoys it. I sure as shit know I will.”
Nancy scrolled quickly through Jonathan’s playlists, scanning for something that felt like… her. Something that captured the strange mix of nerves, excitement, and anticipation she couldn’t quite shake. Her finger hovered over a song she’d been humming all morning, the one that made her chest flutter for reasons she didn’t yet understand.
“‘Electric Feel’ by MGMT,” she muttered, tapping it. The smooth, shimmering synths filled the car’s speakers, wrapping around them like a soft, electric current.
Jonathan tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s… actually perfect. Very… twenty-first birthday energy.”
Nancy laughed, leaning back against the seat, letting the music wash over her. “I don’t know why, but it feels right. Like it’s… mine. Or like someone else’s perfect for this exact moment.”
Jonathan glanced at her, that familiar soft look in his eyes, and said nothing. Instead, he reached over and nudged the volume up just slightly, letting the rhythm pulse through the car. Nancy grinned, tapping her fingers along the dashboard in time with the beat, the lilies from earlier resting in her lap, untouched for the moment.
“Think anyone else out there is hearing this?” she asked, voice quieter now, almost reverent, as if saying it aloud might make it disappear. “You know… my soulmate?”
Jonathan shrugged lightly, one corner of his mouth quirking up. “If they are, I bet they’re also wondering how someone could make the universe so obviously wait until the twenty-first birthday to drop the perfect song.”
Nancy laughed softly, her nerves melting a little in the sound of his voice and the music. “Yeah… maybe. I’ve been waiting for this forever. And now…” She trailed off, letting the synths fill the pause, the melody rising and falling like it was teasing her future.
Stopping at a red light, Jonathan reached over and brushed a loose curl from her forehead. “Hey,” he said, low and steady, “whatever happens tonight, you’re gonna have the best birthday, Nance I’m going to make sure of it. Music or no music, chaos or calm.”
Nancy smiled, the familiar warmth in her chest blossoming. “Thanks, Jonathan. Really.” She leaned her head against the seatback, closing her eyes for a second, letting herself just… exist in the moment, the music, and the quiet reassurance of him beside her.
The chorus swelled, and Nancy couldn’t help but hum along. “Yeah… this feels right. This is good. I think no, that's a lie. I know tonight’s gonna be insane.”
Jonathan chuckled, watching her sway slightly to the beat. “Good insane or terrible insane?”
“Good insane,” she said firmly, her grin brightening. “Robin planned it and Steve agreed to have it at his house. Nothing else matters.”
He laughed, shaking his head, and for a moment the world outside the car—the lights, the quiet streets, the hum of Hawkins settling into night—felt like it belonged entirely to them.
Nancy’s phone buzzed with a text, cutting briefly through the music. Robin, of course, reminding her to “bring your A-game, birthday girl,” complete with ten emojis. Nancy rolled her eyes but laughed, the sound soft and warm.
“Okay,” she said, looking at Jonathan, determination sparking in her eyes, “let’s survive Robin’s masterpiece of a party—and maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally hear a song in my head.”
Jonathan smirked, starting the car toward Steve’s house. “Lead the way, birthday girl. I’ll be right here with you—through every shot, every piñata swing, and every ridiculous song Robin forces on us.”
Nancy laughed again, letting the music thrum through her veins, her heart skipping in time with the beat. Whatever tonight held, she knew one thing: it was just the beginning.
The two of them arrived at Steve’s house to see lights flashed, laughter and shouting cut through the night air, and above it all, Robin’s voice boomed from the DJ booth she had set up on the patio. She had commandeered a small sound system, wired it up like a pro, and was now standing with a microphone in one hand and a laptop in the other.
“Everyone! Settle down for just a second,” Robin shouted theatrically, her voice carrying over the crowd. “Tonight, we celebrate the one and only Nancy Wheeler—twenty-one years of perfection, chaos, and good looks. And yes, I have curated a playlist that will blow your mind!”
Nancy felt her cheeks heat as applause and cheers echoed around her. Jonathan nudged her gently. “She’s really gone all out, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Nancy muttered.
Then Robin hit play. The speakers erupted with her curated playlist, bright and loud—but no amount of blaring pop hits and retro jams could drown out what was echoing inside Nancy’s head. Amid the chaos, a different melody surfaced—soft, wistful, intimate, as though someone had dropped a record straight into her mind, playing only for her.
It wasn’t the song she’d chosen in the car. This was gentler, more nostalgic: the dreamy guitar riff of “Lovers Rock: by TV Girl, drifting through her thoughts like a memory half-remembered.
Her chest tightened. She froze, heart thumping, and leaned toward Jonathan. “Do you… hear that?” she whispered, small and trembling.
He tilted his head, brow furrowed. All he caught was the music blasting from the speakers and the blur of voices around them. “Hear what?”
Nancy closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the internal melody. There it was again: the soft, plucked guitar notes, the warm, teasing vocals, threading through her mind like someone stroking her soul with a feather.
“It’s not what Robin’s playing,” she murmured to herself. “It’s different… two songs in my head: the one Robin is blasting, and another, quieter one. My song—or maybe my soulmate’s.”
Jonathan’s eyes softened. “Your… song?”
Nancy nodded, astonished, feeling simultaneously suspended and anchored. Around her, the party noise—laughter, cheers, Robin’s booming voice—blurred at the edges. But inside her head, “Lovers Rock” rang clear and steady, intimate, insistent.
She opened her eyes, scanning the yard. The unicorn piñata swayed in the lights. Streamers tangled in the bushes. Teens leaned against the fence, unsteady, laughing. None of it mattered. What mattered was the private melody threading through her mind, connecting her to someone she hadn’t yet met.
A cheer from Robin yanked her back to the present. Nancy gripped Jonathan’s hand tightly, the echo of the internal song pulsing softly, delicate and insistent, like an invitation.
Jonathan leaned close, voice low. “Looks like the birthday chaos just got… deeper.”
Nancy smiled, warmth pooling in her chest. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, it really did.”
Outside, the party thumped: bass vibrating through the yard, the piñata swinging dangerously, Robin’s voice triumphant. But inside Nancy’s mind, the song continued, layered over the noise, whispering that this night was about more than just a party.
The night stretched on, and the party swirled around Nancy and Jonathan like a living, breathing entity. Robin, perched atop the small DJ booth on the patio, was a whirlwind of energy—yelling into the mic, waving her arms, and occasionally tossing out a silly anecdote about Nancy’s childhood. Lights flashed, the bass thumped, and the scent of barbecue and spilled drinks mingled with the crisp night air. Steve being the prominent host that he is, made sure that both Jonathan and Nancy each had a drink in their hands at all times.
After two drinks, Jonathan tugged Nancy toward the dance floor outside. “Come on,” he laughed, dodging a group of laughing teenagers doing some weird jumping up and down and flailing their arms around. “You can’t just stand there and let Robin have all the fun.”
Nancy laughed, but inside, her mind was elsewhere. The faint echo lingered in her head, but now it shifted, like someone flipping through a record collection that only she could hear. A new tune started, soft and jazzy, with a lazy, rolling piano that made her shoulders sway almost involuntarily. It was warm and nostalgic, and the way it seemed to flow through her thoughts made her pulse quicken.
Nancy closed her eyes, letting the external chaos blur into background noise. The internal melody shifted again—this time something slow, romantic, and impossibly familiar. It was “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,” by Frankie Valli. The soft, soaring vocals threading through her mind as if someone had reached into her consciousness and pressed play just for her.
Her chest tightened, and she glanced at Jonathan, who was still grinning, dodging a group of dancing teens while holding her hand. He started to spin her around so she could see everyone who came to celebrate her today. The song in her head made her heart ache in the sweetest way, each note a tug at a memory she hadn’t yet lived, a promise she hadn’t yet made.
Jonathan spun her back to face himself and tilted his head, noticing her stillness. “You’re doing that look again,” he said softly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Nancy smiled, almost sheepishly. “It’s the song in my head,” she murmured. “It… it’s different now. I can feel it. Every note is… it’s like it’s telling me something. A clue about who my soulmate is.”
Jonathan’s brow furrowed slightly, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “A clue, huh? And what, pray tell, is it saying?”
Nancy’s heartbeat quickened. She could feel the music winding through her thoughts, brushing against her like a secret only she could hear. The lyrics—so intimate, so direct—seemed almost conversational, as if someone on the other end of the universe was nudging her toward him without ever speaking a word.
“I… I think it’s telling me to pay attention,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the music and the hum of the party. “To notice… the person who’s been right here all along.”
Jonathan’s grin softened, and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Right here, huh?” His fingers brushed hers, and that familiar warmth shot up her arm, grounding her even as the song inside her head swelled, each note weaving around her pulse.
Nancy swallowed, heart hammering, and found herself staring straight into his eyes. “Yeah,” she said finally, her voice firmer, almost certain. “I think… I think it’s you Jonathan.”
Jonathan blinked, a mix of surprise and curiosity crossing his face. He shook his head slightly, a small laugh escaping him. “Wait… me?”
Nancy hesitated, her pulse racing with the insistence of the music inside her head. The words felt fragile, like delicate notes she had to place just right. “Yes,” she said again, louder this time, letting the rhythm of the song guide her courage. “Every song tonight… it’s like it’s been trying to tell me something. And I think all the pieces just… clicked. You’re the one I’ve been looking for. The one the music’s been pointing to.”
Jonathan frowned, tilting his head. “Wait, I—what?” He shook his head, still caught up in the party noise and Robin’s booming announcements. Clearly, he hadn’t heard her.
Nancy leaned closer, pressing her lips near his ear, letting the warmth of her voice cut through the chaos. “It’s you, Jonathan,” she whispered, soft and certain. “You’re my… my soulmate. The music—it’s been leading me here, to you.”
Jonathan’s smile grew wide in disbelief. He spun her around one more time, with her back to his chest. He got close to her ear, the tension between them growing. “Can I ask you a question, Nance?”
“Always, Jonathan. You know I’m an open book when it comes to you,” she turned her head slightly and responded to him.
“What song were you listening to while you were getting ready? Because I know you never get ready without listening to some music,” he asked.
Nancy froze for a moment, heart skipping. “‘Paradise’ by Bazzi,” she admitted, almost shyly.
Jonathan’s eyes softened, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “‘Paradise’ huh?” He let the words hang, then leaned back slightly, gaze focused on her face. “I think… I think that’s the song I heard today while I was in my kitchen today wrapping your present.”
Nancy blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I mean it,” Jonathan said, his voice low, steady, almost reverent. “I had to stop like three separate times while wrapping your gift because I had no idea where the song was coming from. I was the only one home. I made sure of it.”
Nancy’s chest tightened, goosebumps prickling over her arms. She turned back to face Jonathan while asking, “You… you heard it? The song?”
“Oh, I’ve also heard all the terrible singing you do in the shower, and you screaming in your car late at night after you completed research in the library for your papers. You’ve actually woken me up a few times with that one. Nance, I’ve been hearing you in my head since my birthday in March,” Jonathan said matter of factly to her.
Nancy’s breath caught, the world narrowing down to Jonathan’s face, his steady eyes, and the music still humming faintly at the back of her mind—soft, warm, familiar.
“You—” she choked, barely finding the words. “You’ve been hearing me? This whole time?”
Jonathan nodded slowly, a soft, incredulous smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah. At first I thought I was losing my mind. I first heard you back in April when we all got together for Robin’s birthday. I was halfway through making a sandwich when ‘Paradise’ started playing in my head. Out of nowhere. And the only person I knew who played that song while getting ready was you.”
Nancy felt her pulse thrum in her ears. The party blurred—lights, laughter, Robin and Steve yelling something triumphantly into the mic. None of it mattered.
“You didn’t say anything,” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to freak you out,” Jonathan admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And hell, I wasn’t sure. I kept thinking maybe I wanted it to be you so badly that I was just hearing things you know. Because how can you tell someone that you hear all the songs that they do when they are listening to them without any proof. So I just waited painfully for two months until today, your twenty-first.”
He reached up, brushing a curl behind her ear the way he always did when she was spiraling. Gentle. Grounding. Familiar.
“You heard ‘Lovers Rock’ today,” he said quietly, voice warm. “Didn’t you?”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “Wait—was that you?”
Jonathan nodded once, almost shyly. “I was playing it right after I texted you that I was leaving my house. I started to play it, then my little brother called me and he didn’t hang up until I told him I got to your house. It’s stupid, but the song always made me think of you.”
Nancy’s knees threatened to give out under her. “Oh my God.”
This time they both heard the music of Robin’s current song playing, “i like the way you kiss me” by Artemas.
It was him.
It had always been him.
Every grounding presence, every late-night comfort, every unspoken moment. The universe had just taken twenty-one years to underline what her heart already seemed to know.
Jonathan exhaled shakily, stepping closer until his chest brushed hers. “I didn’t want to say anything until you heard something too. I didn’t want to put that on you if I was wrong.”
Nancy laughed, a breathless, stunned sound. “Jonathan Byers, you idiot,” she whispered, smiling wide. “Of course it’s you.”
His eyes softened, almost disbelieving. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, feeling the truth down to her bones. “I’ve been hearing songs all night and I kept thinking they were pointing me somewhere. And the whole time, every time I looked at you… the music just felt stronger.”
Jonathan’s lips parted just slightly, like he was trying to shape a thought that refused to come out. Emotion flickered across his face—relief, awe, something deeper that made Nancy’s stomach flip.
Then, softly: “Nance… can I—?”
Nancy didn’t let him finish. She grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him.
It wasn’t dramatic, or messy, or loud.
It was slow. Warm.
Perfect.
The moment their lips touched, the music in her head exploded like fireworks going off underwater, bright and soft and all-encompassing. The melody wrapped around them both, humming in her bones, echoing against her ribs.
Jonathan kissed her back instantly, hands sliding to her waist as though he’d been memorizing the motion for years.
They pulled apart only when Robin shrieked into the mic, “NANCY WHEELER IS MAKING OUT WITH JONATHAN BYERS ON THE DANCE FLOOR, EVERYBODY FREEZE—”
Nancy groaned, pressing her forehead to Jonathan’s as he snorted out a laugh.
“Of course she saw,” Nancy said hopelessly.
“She’s gonna make this her personality for the next decade,” Jonathan agreed.
“Maybe longer.”
They both laughed, soft and breathless, and Jonathan reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You okay?” he asked, earnestly, quietly.
Nancy squeezed his hand. “I’m… more than okay.”
Around them the backyard spun on — Steve yelling, the piñata finally giving way, kids squealing about the mini bottles — but inside Nancy’s head the music settled into a steady, perfect harmony. Jonathan’s harmony. Theirs. Tonight, under string lights and chaos, the truth slid into place: her soulmate had been standing beside her all along.
When the party loosened and Robin returned to her playlist, Jonathan squeezed Nancy’s hand. “You wanna step inside for a minute?” His voice was gentle, edged with nerves. Nancy searched his face, heart still floating. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
They slipped inside Steve’s house through the sliding glass door, leaving behind the thump of music and the glow of string lights. The living room was dim and quiet, illuminated only by a lamp and the soft flash of the kitchen’s neon beer sign Steve insisted on keeping “for the vibe.”
Jonathan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped package — black paper, tied with twine, the kind of simple, careful wrapping that was unmistakably him.
“Nance,” he said, offering it to her with just the slightest tremble in his fingers, “this is… the actual present. The one I was wrapping during the whole Lovers Rock incident.”
Nancy let out a soft laugh, her chest warming as she took it from him. “You were right. You wrap gifts like someone who uses a ruler for everything.”
“I do,” Jonathan said, deadpan. “Precision matters.”
She shook her head, smiling, and carefully peeled the twine away, opening the paper. Her breath caught.
Inside the box was a small silver necklace — simple, elegant — with a tiny charm shaped like a cassette tape. On the side, engraved in microscopic detail, were two letters:
N.J.
Nancy blinked hard. “Jonathan…”
He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks reddening.
“I know it’s… kinda cheesy,” he muttered. “But I kept thinking about how music is… us. It always has been. Even before today. And I guess I wanted you to have something that felt like… like the start of whatever this is now.”
Nancy ran her thumb over the tiny engraved letters. “It’s perfect,” she whispered. Her voice broke on the last syllable.
Jonathan exhaled, relief softening his whole face. “There’s, um… more.”
Nancy looked up, startled. “More?”
He reached back into the box and pulled out a small folded piece of paper. Her heart fluttered as she unfolded it.
Inside was a handwritten playlist made of messy handwriting, little doodles in the margins, but unmistakably thoughtful.
Nance’s 21st Birthday Playlist (aka: Songs I Hear When I Think of You)
- “Lovers Rock” – TV Girl
- “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” – Frankie Valli
- “Electric Feel” – MGMT
- “Paradise” – Bazzi
- “Here Comes the Sun” – The Beatles
- “The Only One” – The Black Keys
- “Bloom” – Troye Sivan
- “I Wanna Be Yours” – Arctic Monkeys
- "End of Beginning" -Djo
- “Tragedy” - The Bee Gees
- “Stargazing” - Myles Smith
Nancy pressed her hand to her mouth. “You made me a playlist?”
He nodded, looking shy and hopeful. “I started it back in March. Before the soulmate stuff. Just… stuff that reminded me of you. Stuff I wished you’d hear someday.” He paused, eyes flicking to hers. “Guess the universe beat me to it.”
Nancy stepped close, the necklace still clutched in her hand. “Jonathan,” she said softly, “this is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.”
He looked at her, really looked at her, like she was the only person who existed in that moment.
“Can I…?” he asked, fingers hovering near the necklace.
She turned around, lifting her hair. Jonathan gently fastened the clasp, his fingertips brushing the warm skin at the back of her neck. She felt her entire body shiver — not cold, but recognition. Connection. Harmony.
When she turned back, Jonathan’s face was inches from hers.
“Nance?” he whispered.
“Yeah?” she breathed.
“This feels right.”
She swallowed, her smile trembling. “It feels perfect.”
Jonathan leaned his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. “No more waiting,” he murmured. “No more pretending I don’t hear you singing in the shower.”
Nancy laughed, “I knew that wasn’t the pipes,” while pressing her palm against his chest.
He grinned, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “We’re really doing this, huh?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “We are.”
Another song flickered quietly at the back of her mind — soft, warm, unmistakably Jonathan:
“Bloom.”
Nancy smiled, eyes shining.
“Wanna go back outside?” Jonathan asked. “Or stay here a minute?”
She laced her fingers through his again. “Just… stay. Right here.”
Jonathan nodded, pulling her gently into his arms.
Surrounded by the muffled music from outside, the glow of the living room lamp, and the faint echo of their shared song, Nancy Wheeler held her soulmate for the very first time.
And it felt like coming home.